Monday, Monday / It was all I hoped it would be

These two may be the only people on our block for whom Monday cannot come soon enough. Cordelia breaks her customary silence every Monday and Thursday morning to shriek, "Truck! TRUCK!!!" and vibrates with joy alongside her hopping brother.

Last week, we piled in the wagon and went on a garbage truck hunt, another favorite activity. As we were stalking the abundantly patient "garbage gentleman buddies" around the neighborhood (I'm sure the neighbors are all thrilled everytime they oblige my kids by honking "that great loud garbage horn!"), we came upon something that generated even more excitement:

A snapping turtle. Given the whole snapping part, I was reluctant to do anything with it, but Cody was terrified that "he is in the MIDDLE of the street Mommy, and he did NOT look both ways, and that is dangerous!" Thankfully, our neighbor George came out with huge gloves and shepherded Snappy (Cody named him in about 30 seconds) across the street to the creek.

When he came to tell us all was well, Cody exclaimed, "Oh thank you, Mr. George, for rescuing Snappy the Turtle! You are my hero! Have a great weekend!" (It was Monday.)

There's Something About Mary

This one's my favorite. She just looks so...dubious. And circumspect. Her default setting. :)

A Girl After His Own Heart (and after his stuff, too)

Welcome to the Jungle

Sprayground 2011!

" . . . But she can still communicate."

I've been put in mind of Cody's emphatic line about Bidi last year, about how she did not have a mouth, but she could still communicate. Because that's something like where Cordelia is right now. Her refusal to use words is so total that you might, if you didn't know her, almost think that she was doing it willfully.

As it is, she has devised a little system where, through pointing, nodding, and assorted baby sign language signs, she is able to communicate her wishes quite effectively.

Bumping Along in Our Little Blue Wagon

Clearly, she's just putting up with him.

Strolling Along

Here she comes...

And...there she goes.

Little Bear, Stud Athlete

Nothing happy about this kid. : )

My little slugger, humbly surveying his home runs.

Have You Driven a Ford Lately?

On Saturday afternoon, we went to the tiny little town of Clifton, for the sole reason that Clifton has an old, stationary caboose--"a REAL caboose, Mommy!"--next to the tracks for the kids to play on. A big hit.

Even better, we discovered an amazing playground. With a play train, an awesome car (this one's for you, Wenzel family)...

...and best of all, a gazebo. You know, so we could re-enact the "You Are Sixteen, Going on Seventeen" scene from The Sound of Music.

Cody and I did the whole duet, complete with the part where Rolf whirls Liesl around as she steps lightly over the benches lining the inside of the gazebo. But, per his direction: "Mom. YOU be Rolf. I will be Liesl!"

An Order of Sliders

Cordelia and I had a rare hour to ourselves this afternoon, during which she went up and down the slide, over and over, over and over, until she finally collapsed. She is such a strong little scamp -- she finally stopped trying to go up the slide on her knees and used her feet. Every time she did it, she giggled more, then clapped proudly for herself.

Whee! (After a few tries, she could scale the slide in under 5 seconds. The other day I turned around and she was on top of the table. Clearly, she will be the reason for any future emergency room visits.)

Cody Takes BP

This is longer than most, about 2 minutes, but worth it, I think.

Cody only goes about .300 on the first set, but then he switches to a lighter bat and hits closer to .450.

He has center-field power already. I'm just saying.

Good Hair Day

Jesus, The Tank Engine

Cody's latest thing is singing the Litany of the Saints in bed just before sleep. He starts and finishes (you cannot even imagine how sweet it is to hear him start: "Holy Mary, Mudder of Go-od, pray for us!") and does a few of his favorites (St. Matthew, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, Saint Monica, and now-Blessed John Paul). I fill in the middle part, and mix it up each night depending on the day (St. Jude, for example, when it's been a particularly futile-feeling day). Last night I threw in St. Thomas. Cody paused in his singing and said, "Who was St. Thomas?"

Me: I'll tell you all about him tomorrow, buddy. But he was one of Jesus's very good buddies.

Cody: But...isn't Thomas a train?

Me: What do you mean, sweetie?

Cody: Was Jesus best buddies with Thomas the Tank Engine?

Me: Oh. Um. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.

To creep you out a little bit, it turns out there's a website for everything. Because when you google "Jesus" and "train" here's a sampling. And these are some of the LESS weird things that come up.

I love Jesus and everything. But come on.

Yes, she's there too. Why? Who could say.

UPDATE: Last night, as we were singing, Cody earnestly rang out, "Saint Thomas the Tra-ain, pray for us!" I now never, ever want to set him straight. It is too precious.